I miss waking up in the darkness. Sleeping when I should. I miss the structure of a boring day.
I miss the ocean air. The warm sand shifting beneath my toes. The screech of the gulls as they dip their beaks into the spray.
I miss having a quiet moment to myself. An unrushed meal, a hot mug of coffee. A loved book, I’ve been eyeing forever.
I miss the sounds of children flying down the slides. Their delighted squeaks breaking the afternoon monotony.
I miss seeing friends, bumping into acquaintances. Tidbits shared and hugs offered. I miss the way my best friend laughs.
I miss all the silence. The deep emptiness, with me at my desk and ideas percolating into a rich, warm brew.
I miss the faces of strangers. People I see and have never seen before. Smiles and nods, as we pass each other by.
I miss walking my kids to school, to the park, to the zoo. An entire day of magic for them and me, together and apart.
With food on my plate and family around me, I’m glad to be safe, I’m glad I’m inside.
I’m calmer and slower, I’m stronger and fine.
But I miss the smells and sounds of the days gone by.